


Three for the Price of None

by TrashLogic



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Du Couteau sandwich, F/F, Multi, Roman gladiator au, Sibling Incest, T R A S H, Threesome - F/F/F, seriously garbage trash dumpster, with riven in the middle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 22:19:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3706169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashLogic/pseuds/TrashLogic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Roman gladiatorial au) Cass convinces Katarina that their mutual interest in the prize gladiator are best served by inviting her back to Cass's private chambers for the evening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three for the Price of None

Cass arches and moans, climaxing as Riven works furiously between her legs, and Katarina can only watch, inexplicably transfixed.

Her gaze skitters across Cass’s naked body--flawless skin, pale as alabaster--in sharp contrast the sunlight-touched curve of hard muscles and harder scars that is their finest gladiator.

Riven is even finer when clad in only her skins than ever in her tunics and armor, and Katarina has to admit that maybe, just maybe, Cass had the right idea in this. In inviting the prize gladiator in for both of them to share.

Not that Katarina is ever keen on sharing anything, particularly in the same chambers as her sister, but…

She shifts her weight, feeling the throb of heat between her thighs.

Riven pulls back from Cassiopeia, a smirk on her glistening lips, and stands up from where she had knelt between Cass’s legs, eyes still as pinned on Katarina as they had been for the better portion of the performance. Something very hot and very liquid shudders through Katarina again, pooling in her low gut.

She rolls her shoulder back, searching for the appropriately witty criticism with which to wipe the smirk from Riven’s face, and finding herself at a sudden loss when Riven is already in front of her, naked, shameless, mere inches apart.

Her mouth glistens, still wet from Cass, and Katarina can’t help but be drawn to her full lips.

“Never would have thought you the voyeur of your family.”

Katarina snaps her gaze to Riven’s. "What?!"

“You seemed to enjoy the show quite a bit, even if you’re still dressed.”

Katarina tilts her chin up, twisting her lips. She _knows_ she’s being baited, and yet she finds she can’t bring herself to care. Without looking away, Kat reaches toward her stola, undoing the folds of the long robe until it whispers down to the floor. She arches an eyebrow in challenge, willing away the heat that is _definitely not_ present in her cheeks as Riven gives her very, very thorough once-over.

“Were you thinking about me tasting you while I did the same to your sister? On my knees? Or…” Riven steps in even closer, and Kat feels herself tense up, suddenly nervous, on edge, suddenly and abruptly feeling too, too far from her usual control...and it’s intoxicating. “...maybe...the other way around. Me taking my pleasure from you, drawing out every last cry I can until you’re begging for what release I’ll give you.”

 _That_ gets a shudder from Kat, one that runs across her before she can think to repress it, but leans back in, trying to draw some of her usual fire to her voice.

“I take my pleasure as _I_ want,” Katarina retorts. And hasn’t that always been the case. When she’s taken her nighttime lovers to her rooms, she has never once shied away from determining the outcomes.

A mocking chitter of laughter follows that, and Kat spares a moment to send a heated glare at Cass. Not that it has any effect. She only watches through a slitted gaze, clearly interested by what will happen next.

The hands on her hips tighten, hard. Then in the space of a moment, the world spins around her. She’s on the bed next to Cass, Riven straddling her and one of her hands trapping both of Katarina’s wrists up by the pillows with in an iron embrace.

“Oh?” Riven asks casually, hardly out of breath even as Katarina’s heartbeat pounds into life, chest beginning to heave. “So then how do you feel about this? About being trapped beneath me, nothing to be done...wanting me to have my way with you just like I did with your sister?”

Katarina feels the blood roar in her ears, making her mouth dry up suddenly, making her lick her lips feverishly. Her vision flickers sideways toward Cass, kneeling on the bed less than a foot from her, her own eyes wide and dilated and clearly fixated on both Riven and Kat.

Riven draws Kat’s attention soon enough. Her mouth drops down to Kat’s jaw, her neck, her collarbone, hot and wet and nipping hard enough to leave marks even as she intersperses her work with words.

“I think you’re used to being on top, to calling all the shots...but I think you want this, too. You want to be fucked senseless, helpless to whatever my fancy is for you while your audience watches.”

Katarina's brow draws down at that. "Oh, _fuck off_ \--"

Her hips jerk when Riven draws her fingers against them slow and hard, and Katarina is forced to suck in a sharp breath, world going terribly hazy for a long moment. There’s a long, slow pause when that touch trails down her thigh, matched in perfect time as Riven dips her head and Kat kisses her back greedily.

 _More_.

It’s the only heady thought that runs through her now.

Riven pulls back, just enough to look at her properly. The corners of her lips are only just tilted upward. but she is undoubtedly pleased.

“That’s what I thought.”

She kisses Kat again, but it’s deliberately light, teasing. Again and again and again. Until a sound finally escapes from Katarina’s throat.

“You like this, but you want even more. You want to be touched...by me. Or...by Cassiopeia. Don’t you?”

“I--” 

The air in her lungs freezes as Riven grabs Cass’s hand, firmly guiding it down to Katarina. She splays her calloused fingers over Cass’s longer, paler counterparts, pressing them down in a guided path across Katarina’s exposed skin, talking all the while; talking as they trace across her hip. across her ribs...up her sternum and collarbone, and down down to the curve of her breasts.

“And you’d like her to touch you again now, not as a sister but as something more.” One set of fingers, rough and certain, releases her wrists to play with one nipple; another set, slender and more tentative, guided, toys with the other.

Katarina digs her fists into the silken sheets, presses her cheek into bed. The back of her eyelids is preferable to watching, to _acknowledging_ just as she knows Riven wants.

Only when Cass moans does Kat dare to look, dare to see how one of Riven’s hands is now busied at Cassiopeia's own sex, slow and lazy circles that make the tendons in her arm jump beneath the myriad of white scars. It’s only for a moment though, and Cass lurches and exhales shakily when Riven stops.

“Come now, Cassiopeia. Think of your sister.”

Then Riven is replacing her hand atop Cass’s, slowly guiding it lower, lower still, as their fingers finally dip to the junction between Katarina’s legs.

Impossible not to suck in a breath at the first touch against her, to grit her teeth and shove her head to the side. And more impossible still to miss the way the Cass, too, makes a noise, even as Riven has the gall to chuckle and smirk knowingly.

A mere gladiator, a slave to the arena, laughing at _her_.

And yet the idea of indignation flees from her mind as soon as the hands between her legs start to move. Slow, agonizing motions that rob her of any coherent thought beyond wanting more. Needing more.

“You like that, don’t you?” Riven’s voice is hot and low, pitched just so that Kat can’t help the shiver that runs through her, can’t help how she moves her hips into the maddening touch between her legs, the touch that, that…

“You like being fucked by your own sister, don’t you?” Her lips whisper against Katarina’s ears. Her teeth nip down on the shell of skin there, and Kat groans, eyes closed tight.

She will absolutely not open them. She refuses to look down, to confirm for herself just _who_ is touching her, teasing along all the heat that roars through her.

“You like her fucking you, and you like the thought that she likes fucking you. That she gets to touch you, even taste you.”

The fingers at her sex suddenly pick up in pace, and Kat curses rather than look at Riven.

“Oh, _fuck…_ ”

She hears Cassiopeia moan softly again, but can’t bring herself to look that way, not even when moments later, Riven brings her fingertips up to Kat’s face.

They’re wet, though from _whose_ desire, Kat can’t be certain. They push past her lips, and Kat takes them into her mouth, shame and pleasure alike mingling together at the way Riven closes her eyes for a moment and groans her on encouragingly.

It doesn’t last anywhere near as long as what Katarina would like.

Riven pulls back, instead moving to grip Katarina’s jaw with a grip forceful enough to bruise should she try to resist. Kat stares into Riven’s unblinking amber eyes, gritting her teeth at the increasingly smug and knowing gaze.

She doesn’t _mean_ to--Katarina Du Couteau is never forced to avert her eyes--but Kat, unable to hold, finds her eyes fluttering closed. Anything to avoid looking at Riven.

As soon as her eyes close, the handle on her jawbone eases. The low laugh that she feels rumble through Riven is anything but reassuring, and it takes only a moment to figure out why.

“Put your fingers inside of her, Cass,” commands Riven.

Kat keeps her eyes squeezed shut tight, trying not focus on how the circling of her clit slows and stops, how those long and elegant fingers stop for a moment before moving further still, how they--

She gasps, sucking in a breath, hips bucking, eyes flashing open despite her efforts. Riven is chuckling, both hands shoving Katarina firmly back down, her mouth covering Katarina’s. Katarina can only savor the searing open-mouthed kiss for a moment, though. Then Riven is biting down, dragging her lower lip through teeth hard enough to draw out the iron taste of blood.

Katarina leans up into her, but Riven provides no such relief.

Her gaze is as pitiless as her voice.

“Is that really the best you can manage, Kat?”

And _ugh_ but doesn’t that goad Katarina on. She should be indignant, she should snap something back, but the only thing on the tip of her tongue is an incomprehensible sound that only pleads for more.

But, oh gods. If only the hand between her legs would stop slowing down then speeding up, then maybe Kat would actually be able to... 

“There we go. Make her work for it.”

A curse wells up to the forefront of Katarina’s tongue, and escapes as a pathetic whimper. She can’t help how her hips start to move of their own accord, how her body aches for a desperate rhythm from the maddening lack thereof.

Riven bites down on the shell of her ear, and Kat feels herself come undone.

“I bet you’d like nothing better than for a mouth to be down there right now...lips and tongue working to please you. Mine or your sister’s...or both. I bet you’d like both of us, kneeling on the floor for you, taking turns at your orders. You fisting a hand in my hair..” Katarina feels Riven do so in her own hair, yanking Katarina’s head with a hard tug that makes her gasp. “...leading me just where you want me. Where you need me.”

Riven’s grasp eases only just enough, and then Katarina shudders uncontrollable when her fingertips rake against the sensitized skin of her scalp.

All the while she can’t help it. She can’t help the way her hips rock forth into the hand between them. She can’t help whimpering at how it goads her on, at how it makes the heat well up and run like fire through her blood. She can’t help how her voice is reduced to nothing more than begging whimpers and half-formed pleads for more...just a little bit more.

Even that soon chokes in her throat, though, her body growing tighter and tighter and still. She’s so, so close, almost there. Almost able to take her pleasure.

Riven’s lips are back at her ear again, a hand fisted roughly in her hair and forcing her head up.

“Open your eyes, Kat--look at just who’s fucking you.”

Against her will, against all sense, Kat’s eyes snap open, back arching, pelvis grinding down. Her gaze is immediately caught by Cass’s own, held tremulously in place as she comes helplessly, comes to the rhythmic motions of Cass fucking her at Riven’s direction.

Kat collapses into the mattress, the sweet sense of satiation drowning out even the creeping guilt and shame.

She doesn’t want to open her eyes again. Not now and not ever. Not even when Riven runs the knuckles of her hand down the line of her jaw and neck, leaving a trail of shivers of Katarina’s skin wherever she goes.

Her resolve bleeds away as soon as she feels Riven shift over her, hears the noise of surprise from Cassiopeia.

Cass is red-faced, a mixture of embarrassment and somewhat else as Riven takes Cass’s fingers into her mouth, taking her time to slowly and and thoroughly suck each one clean. Cass’s eyes flutter closed, and she lets out an appreciative moan. All the while, Riven’s gaze pins Katarina in place, never breaking eye contact, practically daring Kat to look away first.

And she can’t.

Riven hums, and Katarina feels the heat blaze back into life deep in her gut, eager and ready.

But doesn’t Riven just already know it--in the smug lift of her lips, in the way her eyes look over Kat even as she moves Cass’s fingers, planning what’s next.

And Katarina wants to find out.


End file.
